


Reiteration

by Nokomis



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nokomis/pseuds/Nokomis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights the job hits a little too close to home for Stephanie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reiteration

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Silveronthetree, originally posted [on tumblr.](http://nokomiss.tumblr.com/post/123319624397/silveronthetree-replied-to-your-post)

The deal’s going down in one of the many abandoned warehouses along the waterfront. This one’s brick and steel and looks as old and worn-down as Gotham herself, which Steph appreciates especially because there’s a convenient skylight. More modern warehouses just aren’t as easily accessible.

Three would-be mobsters are selling guns inside. They’re fourth or fifth tier criminals at best; normally wouldn’t even catch the attention of Oracle. Gotham PD could handle the situation, only the cop doing surveillance has been spotted getting paid off, and there are no alerts downtown about the deal that’s happening.

Four cases of AKs sit almost directly under the skylight, cold black metal visible through the packing material. Babs’ intel said they’d come in from Metropolis, and she was busy tracking down the original owners, seeing what connections these guys had. Steph was quite frankly impressed that for once _Metropolis_ was the supplier of illegal goods, rather than Gotham being the bad influence. 

Steph’s job was, of course, to punch some faces and stop the guns from disappearing into the streets. The fun stuff. She’s getting ready to get to it when she realizes there is a fourth person in the warehouse.

A little girl. 

Steph freezes. The girl has a small tablet in her hand and she walks up to one of the mobsters -- the one with the gun slung over his shoulder -- and tugs on his sleeve impatiently, gesturing towards the tablet with the universal expression of ‘the battery’s dead.’

“O,” Steph hisses into her comm. “There’s a kid on scene.”

“What?” Babs’ voice is harried. “There’s not supposed to… hang on.” Steph watches as the mobster pushes the girl aside with a sort of casualness that only comes from family, her face hardening as he snarls something at her.

She couldn’t be more than seven. Her hair is pulled into the messy, lopsided sort of pigtail that she’d obviously done herself, and the laces of her sneakers are trailing along untied.

Steph might as well be looking back in time. She takes a deep breath. 

“Lester Gorman has a daughter. Emily. First grader at East Gotham Elementary,” Babs’ voice says coldly. “Apparently she’s been on scene for his last three arrests. There was a statement from one of his former cellmates that the law won’t fire if there’s a kid on scene.”

She‘s heard that one before. Cluemaster had believed it, too. And probably it was right -- her dad had never been shot, after all, even though she could remember a couple times that he would have earned it. And neither had this bastard. Steph adjusts her gauntlets.

“Be careful,” Babs says, and there was something in her tone -- she’d put together the pieces and Steph’s silence, and she was more worried about the criminals than Steph. Steph agrees, and watches carefully. There was a duffel bag now in play, and one of the criminals had taken another of the guns out of the crate, was inspecting it awkwardly, like he’d only ever seen a gun deal on television and was hoping he was doing the right thing.

Steph decides it was high time to kick some ass.

She double-checks Emily’s location -- sitting on the ground between two crates, sulkily pulling at her shoelaces -- and decides that the girl was probably safe enough. Steph decides against a dramatic skylight entrance -- flying glass was a no-no around innocents -- and slips into the warehouse and quietly approaches the criminals.

The first one falls to a gloop-a-rang before any of them have any clue she’s even there. The second one aims the gun he was inspecting at the shadows near her, and Steph hits him with another batarang, knocking the (obviously unloaded) gun out of his hands. She kicks him in the face as she sweeps in, cape swirling and thoroughly enjoying the look of fear on their faces as they register her bat-like silhouette.

Emily’s father is the only remaining man standing, and Steph can see the girl’s frightened face peeking out from behind the crates. 

“Bringing your kid to a gun deal is a shitty thing to do,” Steph informs him as she punches him. She doesn’t use her left hook; he’s still conscious enough to register her next words. “Don’t do it again. Ever. You won’t like what happens.”

A kick and he’s on the ground.

She’s got most of her attention on Emily, and the girl smiles slightly at her. Steph zip-ties the three up, and only then does Emily creep out of her hiding spot.

“Are you okay?” Steph asks.

Emily nods. She’s nervous, and Steph feels dumb when she realizes why. 

“I know you’d rather not be here,” Steph says. “You’re not in trouble. Your dad is the grownup, it’s his responsibility to keep you safe.”

“But…” Emily stares down at her shoelaces. They’re knotted so many times that Steph thinks they’re going to have to be cut off. “I helped.”

Steph crouched down, and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”

Emily shakily lets out a breath and meets her eyes. “Yes.” Steph doesn’t doubt it.

“When I was a kid, my dad made me help him do bad things, too,” Steph says. “And I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.”

“But you’re Batgirl,” Emily breathes out. “You’re not a bad guy.”

“You’re not a bad guy either,” Steph promises her. “You’re a kid. You can become whatever you want. I did.”

The girl’s smile lights up before she turns a scowl towards her father. “Will he go to jail?”

“We’ll do our best,” Steph tells her.

Once the cops have arrived and she’s made sure that Emily will be taken safely to her mother, Steph heads back towards the compact.

“Steph--” Babs begins.

“I know you heard all that, O,” Steph cuts in, feeling strangely self-conscious. Everyone knows her history. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“You did good,” Babs says, speaking loudly, like she’s expecting Steph to be arguing with her.

Steph remembers different warehouses, different deals, different outcomes. “Thanks,” she says quietly.


End file.
